


I Am In Eskew (I Was Always In Eskew)

by RiceNoodlesAndCrime



Category: I Am In Eskew (Podcast)
Genre: Abuse, Character Death, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, I have feelings about Davd Ward and his experiences relating to my own sue me, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Minor Character Death, Other, Spoilers, Trauma, eventually, hopeful pessimism, look i know no one is in this podcast but whatever, spoilers for the entire podcast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:15:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiceNoodlesAndCrime/pseuds/RiceNoodlesAndCrime
Summary: David never really was afraid of Eskew itself. But rather, the reflections Eskew made of his life previous.
Relationships: Allegra & David Ward (I Am In Eskew)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

When he was just four, David learned about fear. 

He had, of course, like most human children, had a general and instinctual understanding of danger. Of things like hunger and thirst and aching bellies that would make his tiny child lungs sing out for help from his mother, who always obliged. Until then. 

Until when he wailed, and wailed, and cried for help from his shushing mother. Because he was now, beyond the usual discomfort he sometimes experienced. But fully horrified, the emotion so expansive and large that he almost couldn’t comprehend it at the moment, at the age he was. 

He was crying because he could see something. Something behind the curtain. Something _inside_ the curtain. Struggling and writhing against the dark red curtains like they were some sort of egg, or embryo, or skin it was trying to break free off. Bony limbs pushing and pressing against the cloth, never breaking free. But the more it pressed itself desperately against the cloth, mewling and grunting softly, the more details about its appearance David saw, until a horrible picture began to reconstruct itself in his mind as the thing inside the curtain. And he cried. And babbled something about monsters. And buried his face in his mother’s clothes for help, as if he too could go and hide inside them, like the creature. 

First, his mother had shushed him, reassuring him with her loving and welcoming grasp. Insisting that it was just the wind, and his imagination. And to shush and be still, be still, David. That all was okay. And that he shouldn’t be reacting in such a manner, because boys didn't cry and he was all big and grown-up. And really, he should have grown out of this years ago, why was he _still_ insisting on seeing imaginary things crawling on the ceilings, and creeping down the alley, and inching into every corner of his life and reality. Really? Do you understand how hard that is on me, David? Don’t you understand how tiring it is to be a mother? And especially how tiring it is being a mother to some fucked up child like you? Why are you like this, David? Why are you being so _selfish_ , David? You brat! It’s not real! It can’t _hurt_ you! You’re a fucking nuisance sometimes. Do you know that, David? There’s something horribly wrong with you, David. Something horribly wrong- 

And it was then that David first felt fear. That he stopped wailing in favor of quietly sobbing into his hands, muffling the noise. That he was not looking at the thing in the curtains when he felt the emotion. But instead watching his mother bustle around, plates and mugs falling with a deafening clatter of broken ceramic. But even the sound of breaking dishes couldn’t drown out the sound of her yelling and insults and complaints. Words that would poison him, sinking into his ears and settling so deep into him. Deeper than anything that Eskew would ever throw at him when he arrived at the city, years later, clothes soaking in the pouring rain that he would come to hate the sound of. 

And David would feel many different emotions while in Eskew. Horror. Terror. Disgust. Anger. Despair. And most of all, a deep hope. Thrumming through his veins like the adrenaline that he used to run. Run away. Until he came across the next horrible thing the city had to offer him. 

But David didn’t feel fear again until he was ( _I don’t remember?_ ) years old. When he happened to meet Allegra. When he lost Allegra to the cruel grasp of the city. To Eskew, who always takes and takes until you feel as though you have nothing left to give. And then takes some more. Leaving you with just enough to keep going. 

When he shouted at his daughter, hearing his mother’s words come out of his own mouth and hating every moment of it. When he lost his daughter. Her body fading to dust in his very arms, tears streaming from his face and not meeting anything but empty, shaking palms. The rain, ever-present, ever persistent, ever indifferent as it fell, soaking him through. 

When he trudged home, hesitating just a moment before opening the door. And there was Allegra. But it wasn’t Allegra. And the thing that wasn’t Allegra yelled and cursed him and asked him why? Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just be satisfied with what he had? Why did he have to test his reality each and every time and not just be _grateful_ for what Eskew had generously given him? Why was he so _selfish_? So _wrong_? 

And David found himself in a familiar position, hands coming up to muffle the sobs struggling to escape from a heaving chest as Allegra screamed and yelled and filled him with the same poison as before. And he could hear the breaking porcelain ringing in his ears before she even grabbed the first plate, throwing it at his feet. 

And David felt fear again. 


	2. Chapter 2

His whole life, David had had to perform. 

First for his mother. Pretending everything was fine. Pretending neither of them noticed the way he flinched when she walked into whatever room he was in. Pretending that the broken mugs and bowls and bits of porcelain didn’t cut into his hands and eventually leave scars on his palms. Pretending that the walks he took outside didn’t drag on for hours and hours. Until he came back, after midnight, sneaking back into the house. His mother not caring enough or having enough energy to chastise him for staying out so late. 

Pretending he still loved her. And that she still loved him 

Then with Eskew. Pretending the city was normal. Going on with the daily, monotonous routine of normal life while his world continuously crumbled around him. Having to adapt and reshape himself as Eskew attacked from all sides. Relentlessly hammering down on him to an anvil, forging him in the fires of terror and pain, until he was contorted into a shape he no longer recognized when looking into the mirror. 

And then his worst, recurring torment. Allegra. Once a salvation, now another weapon of the city’s arsenal. Personally crafted to hurt him in the worst, most familiar way. And he had to pretend once more. Pretending that she was his wife. That they had a daughter, and then a son. That she wasn’t just another mask the city hid behind in an effort to torment and confuse. 

Pretending he still loved her. And that she still loved him. 

So when he finally escaped, Riyo by his side as the cursed city that had torn him apart and stitched him back together again and again and again for years fell. When the fires finally stopped, along with the cities last dying, hoarse screams. When the ash fell upon his shoes and hair and the smoke stung his eyes. 

He didn’t know how to stop pretending. 

With a numbness flowing sluggishly in their veins, Riyo and David went back to London. Riyo had some funds left over, and David had his mother’s bank accounts to collect from. They both had nowhere to go, and no reason to be, so they got a place to live together, coexisting in their uselessness. 

Eventually, though, it broke. 

It was a simple thing. A plate. Slipping from clumsy fingers and crashing upon the floor. 

But it also wasn’t a simple thing. Because every time he broke something, or acted out of line, or did anything to suggest he wasn’t normal. His mother would pounce at the chance, yelling her frustrations at him as he bent and wilted under her words. Or Eskew, taking the opportunity, smiling pale faces turning in his direction, grinning mercilessly. Or Allegra, even. Smiling while poison spewed from her lips, her tongue lashing against him like a whip. 

And so, he fell and broke on the floor of the little dingy kitchen he shared with Riyo, mind fracturing like ceramic. And when Riyo found him, he cowered and flinched and his façade fractured. 

He could pretend no longer. 

It was a good thing, then, that Riyo had never pretended. Had never even bothered to bend to the city’s – or to anyone, for that matter – will. Never faked or relented. 

And when he could get ahold of his breathing again. When he could see beyond the scowling face of his mother, and hear beyond the pounding rain in his skull. He talked. 

He told Riyo about the things his mother would say, and about sneaking out in the middle of the night to an overpass where the rain never ended. Riyo listened, ever patient as he explained Allegra, and how much her betrayal – even if it wasn’t voluntarily – hurt. 

And later, maybe, Riyo would speak of her own experiences in Eskew. The repeated blood spilled under her hands. Watching the betrayal in her lover’s eyes each and every time. 

And David would listen. 

They would not be okay. Eskew made sure of that. David would not hope for such an unattainable thing. 

But they would live. In spite of everything, they would live. 

Maybe that could be enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aahhaha adding another chapter to a fic no one will see pog

**Author's Note:**

> Bro you cannot tell me David Ward does not have so many mommy issues and that the entirety of the podcast doesn't reflect abuse in a supernatural but realistic lighting. The constant feeling of helplessness? Having to perform and keep up with an act? "Allegra" blaming him for his own trauma reactions and feelings of paranoia after all he's went through? His relationship with his mother?


End file.
